


Open Space

by GuineapigQueen



Series: Tumblr prompts [8]
Category: South Park
Genre: M/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Domestic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-12 05:30:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18440027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuineapigQueen/pseuds/GuineapigQueen
Summary: @bpdmaxgoof on tumblr prompted me Creek just moving into their own place. So enjoy!





	Open Space

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Sun Sparks for the beta job!
> 
> There's references to abuse and an abusive household in this fic, if thats a trigger for you be careful.

Tweek listens to the sound of his shoes on the wooden floor.  _ Tap tap tap. _ No carpets in this place; all wood, tile and vinyl. Tweek hates carpets - they’re so messy. They collect dirt, germs, dust, anything. Blood is hard to get out of them, coffee is hard to get out, wine… So many stains, with only one Tweek to get them out. No, he likes the wood. 

 

He likes the space; there’s no clutter, no coffee mugs or teacups. No dishes, knick knacks, or half-done abandoned craft projects - no, this place is minimal and clean. Much like Craig is himself, Tweek hopes that maybe he can soak in some of Craig’s essence by osmosis. That maybe he can absorb some of Craig’s calm and order and really try to get his life back. 

 

Craig is right behind him and is quick to place a hand on the small of Tweek’s back. It’s just what he needs, knowing he’s not alone in this space. That it is his, but also he gets to share it. This is something Tweek has dreamt about but also something he was sure he’d never have. Tweek always thought that if he somehow managed to find a partner, it would be as chaotic and miserable as his parents’ marriage. He never felt that he was deserving of better or more, his parents liked to blame their marital problems on him. They liked to blame everything on him, realistically. 

 

Tweek didn’t ask to be born, much like any baby in the universe. Regardless of circumstance, no child wishes to be willed into existence. Tweek doesn’t know why they had him in the first place; perhaps they didn’t want him. He doesn’t really know what their reasonings were for becoming parents, but he knows they didn’t enjoy it. Tweek is sure they were miserable being his mom and dad, but were also miserable being married to one another. Their marriage, business and child unwillingly ties them together. Tweek often wonders what things would have been like if they’d just have divorced and been done with it. But they couldn’t do that - Tweek Bros Coffee comes above all else. Their family drowned in that business, long before Tweek was born. Most of Tweek’s earliest memories are of that coffee shop; his mom locked him in the back room and scolding him when he made too much noise. Being smacked because he cried for his milk too loudly, and as soon as he was able, being put to work. 

 

The Tweak family looked pretty perfect from the outside. Tweek’s mom called everyone dear and always had her face painted pretty like a doll. His dad always had a customer service voice all the time, like the ultimate host on steroids. And Tweek? Tweek was supposed to be their perfect blonde cherubic baby. Perhaps his father had thought a cute little baby would help them sell more coffee. Too bad Tweek didn’t end up being that kid - he’s a problem child. He can’t put on a mask like his parents do, he has zero filter, he has obvious tics and is constantly jittering. 

 

The room is still and so silent and Tweek lets himself enjoy the peace. It’s the opposite of his chaotic childhood home; nobody is throwing glasses, there’s no blood on the walls, no crazed voices ringing through the halls. Tweek likes the way the light reflects on both the floors and the windows. Pure beams of light were rare in his parents’ house; there was clutter and dust to block them. This area needs furniture, but Tweek enjoys the uninterrupted space. 

 

“Do you want pizza for dinner?” Asks Craig.

 

“Even though we haven’t put together our  _ -hnn-  _ table yet?” Tweek jokes.

 

“I think eating pizza on the floor is a thing, a ‘just-moved-in’ cliché.” Craig replies, pulling Tweek in a little closer. 

 

Tweek just can’t believe that this space is his now, that this is his life. He gets to build it and control it himself. He has Craig, and he’s honoured that Craig wants to be with him, to love him and to share their lives. He knows that Craig isn’t going to try and control him or to suppress and quiet him. 

 

“I’m down for pizza,” Tweek hums contentedly, while Craig fishes out his phone to order. 

 

Craig is his person and Craig already knows exactly what he wants. Craig knows his coffee order, his favourite places to eat and he knows the brands Tweek prefers when grocery shopping. He  _ cares  _ and he wants to know things, he wants to know how Tweek’s day went. He wants to know all the funny ideas Tweek has, but he also wants to know the darkness too. His parents never wanted to know these things; Tweek thinks they may have wanted him to just be a doll. Dolls don’t speak, dolls don’t cry and dolls don’t have needs. A doll could sit behind the counter and look cute and maybe help sell coffee with their cute perfect face. He’s a real person to Craig - a real person with wants, needs, hopes and desires. It’s freeing to know this, instead of feeling like a boy trapped inside a doll, twitching, and desperate to escape. 

 

“I can’t believe all this is ours,” Tweek whispers to Craig.

 

“It’s a tiny apartment,” Craig says with a chuckle.

 

But they both know what Tweek means, yes, physically the space is small but the space is all Tweek’s. Tweek and Craig's space, there’s nobody else to meddle with it and clutter it up. Tweek can’t wait to assemble all the furniture and pick out decorations and to just know it’s theirs. To put their own personal stamp and finishing touches to make their apartment a home. 

 

Craigs phone buzzes to signify their arrival of their pizza and he heads downstairs to get it, leaving Tweek alone in the space. It feels expansive to Tweek despite being so small. Tweek feels swallowed whole in the best way, he could just melt into the floor and soak into the walls. Tweek can’t wait to fall asleep tonight to the sound of nothing but Craig’s breathing. Maybe some background city noise, but no yelling or fighting. No sounds of glasses breaking, of bones breaking, of crying in the night. 

 

The silence is only disrupted by Craig’s return, the sound of his boots on the floor and the clicking of the lock as he opens the door. 

 

“Let’s sit in the middle of the floor like in the  _ -ah-  _ movies,” Tweek says, gently easing himself to sitting on the floor cross legged, patting the spot next to him for Craig.

 

“Sure,” Craig replies and places the pizza box between them as he sits. “This can be your movie if you want it.”

 

“I only want a happy movie. I want a Love Actually type rom-com, man,” Tweek giggles.

 

“I’m not writing on cards and standing out in the fucking cold though,” Craig says.

 

“I don’t need any cards,” Tweek promises. “I just need you here with me, to make this place  _ -nghh-  _ ours.”

 

“Sounds like a deal,” Craig says and pulls out a large pizza slice. He doesn’t bother with politeness and begins stuffing his face immediately, exactly how Tweek wants it. What’s the point of having a partner you feel you have to be polite all the time around? Tweek needs real, not a complete movie moment. 

 

Their movie can be less than glamorous, and maybe a bit more on the boring side. But the point is it will have a happy ending, Tweek finally feels like his life is truly  _ his.  _

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is blesspastacraig if you wanna be friends :)


End file.
